


Barmy

by TheCaramineWanker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 18:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13464177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCaramineWanker/pseuds/TheCaramineWanker
Summary: In Hermione's fourth year, she stumbles upon a fascinating little secret. Her response startles herself.





	1. Chapter 1

It was 3 days before Christmas holiday in Hermione’s fourth year when she stumbled upon something strange. On her way back from the library shortly before curfew, light pouring out of the slightly ajar door to the DADA classroom caught her attention. Stopping short, she peered in, about to knock, until she saw a tall, thin man with unruly blond hair stooped over a caudron, filling a very familiar flask with its contents before adding something else that she couldn’t see. Shock and horror doused her features as realization hit her. Everyone had thought that the flask was due to Moody’s paranoia, but now she saw that that was almost certainly not its true purpose. She stayed until he screwed the cap back on and retreated through a door at the back of the classroom.

Everything inside of her wanted to just press her back against the stone wall behind her and take a nice deep breath, or five, to calm herself before she continued to her room, but she knew that she could not afford that luxury, because if she was not in bed soon, Filch would have her head. Hastening to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione took a couple deep but shaky breaths in an attempt to soothe herself. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, questions and outlandish ideas circling her brain. After slipping through the portrait hole, she rushed to the stairs, completely ignoring her two best friends who were engaged in a game of chess.

‘Whoa, Hermione, what’s the matter?’ Harry’s voice stopped her in her tracks.‘

‘Oh, I just lost track of time in the library and missed curfew.’ She looked down at her feet in an attempt to appear sheepish. ‘As I was approaching the tower, I swear I heard Filch at the end of the hallway, and it just scared the daylights out of me.’ Harry and Ron both chuckled at her antics.

‘Well, maybe you should take the map with you next time you go to the library, considering how easy it is for you to get lost in those books of yours,’ suggested Ron. It was then that an idea struck her.

‘Actually, that is a fantastic idea. May I please borrow it?’ The two boys looked at her with twin expressions of surprise, having expected her to decline any offers that had anything to do with breaking rules. ‘It’s just that I really want to do some in-depth potions research that will require use of the Restricted Section, and you know how Snape is, there’s no way he’ll sign off on it.’

‘Since you asked so nicely and are going against Snape, how could I refuse?’ Hermione smiled brightly at her best friend.

‘Thank you so much Harry, I promise I’ll make it up to you.’ He simply waved her off.

‘After saving my life about half a dozen times, I’d be a right prat to expect anything in return. I’ll give it to you at breakfast tomorrow morning.’

She nodded her thanks, muttered something about being tired, and retreated to her room. Her behavior greatly confused her and honestly she had no idea what on earth she was thinking. The only logical thing to do would be to go to Dumbledore and tell him what she saw. However, in first year, when they had suspected Snape and mentioned it to the Headmaster, they were proven wrong when it turned out to be Quirrel. The next year, Draco was the target of their accusations, and once again, they were sorely mistaken, and the same happened with Sirius. This could very well turn out to be another case of misplaced suspicion, so of course it was a logical to investigate it on her own and see if it didn’t immediately resolve itself. As for lying to Ron and Harry, that was simply because they’re quite excitable and it would save all three of them undue stress if she could just do this on her own. Satisfied with her rationale, Hermione soon after fell asleep with ease.

The next morning, Hermione woke early and meandered down to the Great Hall well before most everyone else. As such, she took her sweet time languidly sipping a steaming cup of lady grey as she waited for her friends to arrive.

‘Hey Mione!’

Ron’s greeting jolted her out of her thoughts. She turned around to offer the two boys a friendly smile and wave. As soon as the boys sat down, she was launched into a very excited discussion about Christmas. The trio would be spending the holiday at the Burrow, as per Molly’s insistence. Luckily for her, the topic of her ‘research’ never truly surfaced, even when Harry handed her the map with a conspiratorial wink.

On her way to class, Hermione ducked into the nearest bathroom, locking herself in a stall. Tapping the folded parchment with her wand, she recited the incantation, and watched as lines blossomed across the page. With shaking hands, she opened it and immediately sought out the DADA room. Currently, the fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors would be gathering there, as she should be. Hermione gasped as her eyes fell upon a familiar name: Bartemius Crouch.

That was shocking since the man she saw was most certainly not the powerful ministry employee who was likely to be the next minister. Perhaps it’s his son, she reasoned, and immediately relaxed a bit. Yes, that must be what this is, Dumbledore brought in the son of the head of magical law enforcement to teach defence against the dark arts. While impersonating Moody. That last bit stumped her, because firstly, why on earth would there ever be such an outlandish arrangement, and secondly, if it is really Crouch’s son, why had she never heard of him, what with his father being such a prominent figure in the ministry? Shaking her head in confusion, she closed up the map and raced to her class, not wanting to be late.

Defence left Hermione feeling frustrated. She had paid close attention to her teacher (more so than usual) but hadn’t noticed anything that would indicate he was anyone other than Alastor Moody. The only thing remotely suspicious was the way he constantly drank from his flask, which now she was fairly sure contained polyjuice. Her disappointment continued throughout the rest of the day and pressed her to escape to the library in an effort to seek answers. Luckily for her, the Hogwarts library kept extensive records of all kinds, and had many shelves filled with old and new articles from newspapers and magazines. Starting with the current year and working backwards, she spent hours pulling every single article that contained the name Crouch and then sifting through them. Shortly before curfew, she hit the jackpot. She pulled one of the last articles from the stack that was dated from November 1981 stating that Barty Crouch Jr. had been charged with the torture of Alice and Frank Longbottom and found guilty, being sentenced to Azkaban by his own father. She gasped.

Shakily, she stood and promptly ran out of the library, ignoring the indignant protests of Madam Pince. Rounding a corner, she slouched against the wall behind her and sunk to the floor, shaking. All she could think about was the fact that the man who tortured Neville’s parents was here at Hogwarts. After a while, she managed to collect herself and started toward her dorm. However, the slightly ajar door to the DADA classroom caught her eye, just as it had the previous evening. Now saddled with her recently acquired knowledge, Hermione braced herself against the wall and peered in. Once again, she saw the man, whom she now recognized as Barty Crouch Jr., hunched over the cauldron just like before. Except this time, instead of simply adding the hair and leaving, he looked straight up at her and smiled a chilling grin.  
‘Well hello there, sweetheart.’


	2. Chapter 2

His voice startled her out of the slight trance she had been in. She jumped and turned on her heel to leave. After only a few brisk paces, she felt a hand clasp her arm.

‘Where are you going, darling? Didn’t you come to see me, like last night?’ Her blood froze upon hearing that last bit. He stepped even closer and whispered in her ear, ‘Won’t you come in and stay a while?’ She stiffly nodded, knowing she had no choice in the matter, and followed him back into the classroom, noticing as he locked the door behind them.

‘Barty Crouch Jr., at your service,’ he introduced with a dramatic flourish and a wink. The menacing glint in his eye told her to play along.

‘Hermione Granger, nice to meet you.’ Her stiff response elicited a laugh from her companion which somewhat confused her.

‘So, dearest,’ she cringed at the term of endearment, ‘care to explain why you were performing such extensive research on my father earlier?’ Silence was the only answer she gave. ‘Unless... it was actually me you were studying with such fervor.’ She could hardly breathe. ‘Bingo, that's the ticket. Care to tell me what you found, sweetness?’

‘That you tortured poor Neville’s parents to insanity and went to Azkaban.’ She sounded much stronger and calmer than she felt. He chuckled. She raised an eyebrow at him and he took a seat on one of the desks before patting his lap.

‘Come here and let me tell you a story.’ She found herself walking over to him in spite of herself, perching herself on the desk across from him rather than on his actual lap. He merely grinned at her and shook his head.

‘Once upon a time there was a very smart young lad who went to school and made friends like everyone else. However, one day, his father decided to wrongfully accuse him of a heinous crime in order to solidify his reputation as a professional hardass. He sentenced his son to Azkaban, only for the boy’s mother to use polyjuice to take his place, since she was dying and he had an entire life ahead of him. For 13 years, the boy’s father hid him under an invisibility cloak and kept him under the imperius curse to ensure that no one knew of his existence. One fine young lady did find out, however, when she called the house and the father was gone, but he hit her with such strong memory charms that it caused permanent brain damage. Finally, the young lad broke free and rallied all of his little friends. His true master, not that fool of a father, entrusted him with a very important task. In order to perform said task, a very clever and rather convoluted plan was developed, and the lad was sent in undercover for what was supposed to be an entire year. One fine night, a fine young lady happened upon him without his disguise and decided to do some research, because that's her thing. To his surprise, she came back the next night after reading that he was a crazed lunatic who tortured her friend’s parents to insanity. The end.’

All Hermione could do was gawp like a ninny. She was utterly flabbergasted and astounded that someone who was the head of the magical law department would do something so cruel, unusual, and highly illegal. Her heart ached for the man in front of her, despite the fact that he was clearly a death eater who had infiltrated Hogwarts. She was startled when he laughed.

‘What's so funny?’

‘Earlier you looked scared, offended, and a bit nauseous, but now all I see is pity. Funny how a sob story will do that.’ Her stomach turned at his harsh words.

‘It's not just a sob story, it’s abuse, which my best friend has also been forced to endure, thanks to Dumbledore.’ He quirked an eyebrow at that.

‘So you don't like the old man either?’ Her immediate instinct was to deny it, but she couldn't bring herself to, and shook her head instead.

‘There is never an acceptable reason for putting anyone in an abusive home and especially not for forcing them to return to it. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him for that.’ He was impressed by the truly murderous glint in her eye.

‘Then why do you fight for him?’ The question truly took her by surprise. She had to think long and hard for about a minute before she could provide an answer.

‘Because Harry believes in him, and at the very least, he has power and information that is useful, and I have no reason to believe that he is lying about which side he’s on. I do think there’s loads more that he’s not telling us, and probably never will, but I don’t believe that he actively wishes us harm, even if he either puts us in dangerous situations himself or turns a blind eye so that we may do so ourselves.’ Barty nodded his head thoughtfully.

‘So I take it he hasn’t mentioned the prophecy?’

‘What prophecy?’ A chill went down her spine, and her uneasiness only grew as he simply smiled wider.

‘What prophecy indeed.’ Resigning herself to the knowledge that he wouldn’t tell her more, Hermione decided to change the subject.

‘So why do you fight for Voldemort?’ The look that consumed his face terrified her.

‘Revenge. I want to break the Ministry from every possible angle and watch the rubble crush his pretty little skull.’ Hermione shivered. ‘I want people to see the debris that used to be their precious Ministry and be reminded by it that my father, the great Bartemius Crouch, was the one who failed them. That he failed to enforce their stupid laws to such an extent that order imploded because he allowed their beloved society to crumble into madness.’

As much as his words scared her, she was able to understand. Yes, it was very extreme, but so was what his father had done to him. Gathering her Gryffindor bravery, she decided to ask another pressing question.

‘Forgive me if this is rude, but I would like to know why it is that after all those years of being forced into hiding that you are willing and able to stay undercover for an entire school year.’ This caught him by surprise, enough that he wasn’t angered by the inquiry.

‘I suppose it just comes naturally after so many years to just stay hidden and follow orders whispered in my ear. Anyway,’ he gesticulated toward the door, ‘it’s getting late, you should really be heading off to bed.’ Reluctantly, she pulled herself to her feet and trudged over toward him as he unlocked and opened the door. She shot him a quizzical look as his hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her before she left.

‘How do I know that you will keep my little secret?’ The inquiry was very much expected, yet Hermione had been hoping he wouldn’t ask, since she didn’t have an answer.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied honestly. ‘I suppose you’ll just have to trust me. I haven’t told anyone anything about last night or my research and don’t really plan to.’ She hoped this was enough, and relaxed significantly when he released her.

‘Goodnight, princess.’ A shiver shot down her spine as he whispered that in her ear. With a simple nod, she flew out of the room, opening the map as quickly as possible so that she could avoid Filch on her way back to her dorm. By the time she reached her dorm, it was roughly 20 minutes past curfew. She tried to sleep but soon found that she couldn’t.

What the hell was she thinking? Not only did she just spend a good 10 minutes or so talking to a death eater in a locked classroom with no one knowing she was there, but she had also lied to her friends in order to do so, however indirectly that may have been. It was a dangerous game she was playing and she could not for the life of her figure out why she was going along with it. She rolled over and groaned, pressing her pillow to her face. The only logical explanation was that she was simply going insane. Yet, she still could not bring herself to regret any of it or wish to betray him by consulting Dumbledore.

His apparent honesty had caught her by surprise. Why on earth would he tell her all of that stuff about himself, and why did he mention that prophecy? The way he barely addressed that prophecy indicated that he knew something important that Dumbledore was deliberately hiding from them. She hoped that he would eventually be willing to tell her. The way that he had purposely let it hang in the air made her think he wanted her to visit him again. That thought made her chew her lip nervously.

Tomorrow was the last day before they all left for Christmas, so if he didn’t tell her then, she would have to wait until after New Year’s for him to do so. This worried her, because in that gap of time, he could easily be found out and sent back to Azkaban and never get the chance to tell her. Of course, she could ask Dumbledore, but she trusted him even less to be truthful than the death eater who was pretending to be her defence teacher. She snorted at that thought, but it was accurate. Dumbledore would inevitably brush her off by claiming that he had no clue what she was talking about, and maybe even promise that he would look into it. No, the only way she could definitely get the information was to have Barty tell her himself and just trust him to tell her the truth. After all, she could always confront Dumbledore with it once she knew more specific information about it, and if all else failed, she could consult Trelawney. She found it quite ironic that earlier she had told him to trust her not to tell and now she had to trust him to tell her what she wanted to know. Turning to face the ceiling, she drifted into a restless slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Hard as she tried to lose herself in her work, Hermione found herself distracted. She needed to get Barty to tell her about that prophecy and she wanted to poke around his brain a bit, a task which even the brave and clever Hermione Jean Granger was daunted by. His words about revenge had been ringing in her ears since yesterday and she wanted to ask him about it. Not the revenge part, of course, since that made sense, but rather the part about why Voldemort apparently has to be involved. She was hoping she could find a soft spot where she could get under his skin a bit, and she thought that may very well be it.

The clock striking ten pulled her from her seat, spurring her to hasten down the hallways to her destination. The irony struck her of how yesterday’s chat had only occurred because he had forced her to enter the room whereas now she was going to talk to him of her own volition. She chuckled humorlessly under her breath. Raising her hand, she rapped her knuckles on the wood thrice. A few seconds later, Barty opened the door and gestured for her to enter. As soon as she perched herself on a nearby desk, Hermione turned to ask him a burning question.

‘So what is that prophecy you mentioned last time?’ He chuckled at her eagerness.

‘Nice to see you too, pumpkin.’ She glowered at him fiercely until he raised his hands in surrender. ‘Fine, it’s as follows.' He paused to dramatically clear his throat. '“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives .”’

Normally his apparently very good memory would have impressed her, but she was too focused on the words. Based on the description, it could also be talking about Neville, but apparently the phrase about the Dark Lord marking him as his equal was interpreted to be about the scar. However, that could, again be applicable to Neville based on how Voldemort attacked his parents, which in turn marked him in a way. She gnawed her lip thoughtfully.

‘Okay.’ He shot her a quizzical look.

‘Okay? That’s it, princess?’

‘Well, that’s it about the prophecy.’ That caught his interest.

‘Oh?’ She shifted in her seat.

‘I was just curious about why you chose to side with Voldemort. I know very little about your situation, but I’d imagine there were other ways you could have gone about the revenge business.’ He merely rolled his eyes.

‘As I’m sure you know by now, there are two sides to this war: yours and mine. I chose to side with Voldemort after he became the main enemy of the Ministry. Also, he caters to purebloods and I just so happen to be one. With this war going on, siding with him was really my best option since he and his followers have the power to destroy the ministry, whereas I do not on my own.’ Hermione nodded.

‘That sounds like a very logical tactical decision.’ He looked suspicious of her intentions. She hastened to continue. ‘I am by no means condoning that choice, I’m just saying that it makes sense.’ His face visibly relaxed.

‘I must say, you surprise me, love. I always thought that you’d be much more of a rigid goody-two-shoes and that the day you found my actions to be “logical” would be the day Lake Cocytus thaws.’ She perked up at that.

‘You read muggle literature?’ This caught him off guard.

‘What? No, Cocytus is just part of the Underworld and is discussed along with all the other topics that muggles dismiss as Greek mythology.’ Her grin spread across her face.

‘Yes, Cocytus originated from that context, but if you’re so well informed on the topic then you’d know that in “Greek mythology”’, she applied air quotes here, ‘Cocytus is one of the five rivers surrounding Hades. It also actively flows and is not in any way frozen. Lake Cocytus, however, was a concept that Dante Alighieri developed and wrote about in the Inferno, it being the ninth circle of the Christian Hell that he designed based on a combination of Genesis and Greek mythology. You referenced Dante’s Hell, not Hades.’ He sighed in resignation.

‘As a child, my third nanny was a muggle born, and she introduced me to muggle literature. I read Shakespeare, Dante, Dostoevsky, Austen, Andersen, Tolkien, Lewis, and so much more. She was fired as soon as my father discovered this, but I continued to read muggle books. With my mother’s assistance, I was able to successfully sneak out to muggle libraries for years without my father knowing, right up until I went to Azkaban.’ He trailed off a bit at the end, staring at the wall behind Hermione.  


‘If it’s something you would like, when I come back from holiday I could bring my collection of muggle books back with me and let you borrow some, since I’ve been meaning to bring the lot of them here anyway. The issue has always been that there is not enough room to store them along with all of my other belongings here at Hogwarts, but I believe that I could trust you to look after them.’ He was gobsmacked.

‘That would be absolutely incredible, I don’t even know what to say, princess.’ She smiled warmly.

‘A “thank you” would suffice.’ He chuckled.

‘Well then,’ he took her hand in his, ‘thank you, my lady.’ She couldn’t suppress the soft blush creeping over her cheeks.

‘It’s really nothing,’ she insisted, waving her hand dismissively. ‘Besides, you really are doing me a favor, so it’s fine.’ Silence followed.

‘You asked me earlier why I chose Voldemort, so now may I ask you why you chose Dumbledore?’ His inquiry elicited a deep sigh from her.

‘I never really chose Dumbledore. I chose my friends and I chose to support them. I chose to defend this beautiful new world with everything I have. Ron and Harry think I’m absolutely mad for being so invested in school, but I’m only like that because now that I have found a place where I actually belong, to lose it would truly be worse than death. I fight for this school and for the future of this wonderful world so that people like me can come here and feel the same immense relief and joy that I did and still do. In relation to me and my motivation, Dumbledore is really just a sort of tumor that came along with it, albeit a somewhat helpful tumor.’ That comparison made him laugh. A wild thought came to Hermione. ‘What if we work together instead?’ Barty choked.

‘What?’

‘Your only goal is revenge and mine is to defend my friends. We both don’t like Dumbledore and I don’t believe you are strongly attached to Voldemort and the death eaters. If we work together, we can form our own army, get your revenge, and deal with Voldemort. You probably don’t want to fight him, but you know his plans and his forces and I am certain that you are well aware of the havoc that he will wreak if he succeeds and that he will destroy the entire wizarding world. If he wins, he will cause an apocalypse, and if the Ministry and Dumbledore win, nothing has changed and there will continue to be the many issues that exist within the current system. We can stop a complete demolition of this world while still either completely rebuilding or just removing the Ministry entirely. You said earlier that there are two sides of this war: yours and mine, but that’s not true. Right now it’s Voldemort against Dumbledore with both struggling for control over the Ministry. Let’s make our own side and knock it all over.’ She looked at him with anticipation. He smiled.

‘I look forward to working with you, partner.’ He shook her hand, sealing the deal.


End file.
